


My Home, My Family, My Friends

by theoncomingwolf



Series: Carol Lives on Earth with M&M AND is a Space Superhero [5]
Category: Captain Marvel (2019), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Action/Adventure, Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, sequel to my very domestic fic with a little more action plot mixed in from time to time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:28:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27677402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoncomingwolf/pseuds/theoncomingwolf
Summary: Carol's settled back home with her family, but life as a superhero is anything but normal.Sequel to 'We Became Your Real Family'. Canon-Compliant Long Domesticity with additional Superhero Plot.
Relationships: Carol Danvers/Maria Rambeau
Series: Carol Lives on Earth with M&M AND is a Space Superhero [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1547398
Comments: 15
Kudos: 92





	My Home, My Family, My Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys!  
> If you did not read my other fic, "We Became Your Real Family", this can be read stand-alone from series, but I would recommend reading that one first because I liked it. :)  
> If you are returning readers (thanks for sticking around!), then this fic is written so I can jump forward a few years and get into some long-term plot ideas I had. I will continue to keep it Canon-Compliant as long as I can, so if relevant mcu-Monica backstory drops in the upcoming W-V series, I'll make sure I don't contradict it.
> 
> Chapter Summary: Carol's in a tight spot, but all she wants is to go home.  
> Chapter Warnings: Non-Graphic depictions of injury.

“Commander?” Talos’ voice crackles loudly in her ear.

Well that-

“Captain Marvel?”

That didn’t go right.

“Captain, please respond! Can you hear me? Captain?”

Carol is reminded of the crash all those years ago- Maria, on the comms, begging her to answer. It was the last time she heard her partner’s voice for six years.

She can’t-

“Get her location, she’s not answering.”

She can’t let that happen again.

Carol cracks an eye open against the bright lights above her, blinking slowly until she can see. It’s difficult still, the world around her a swirling haze of spotlights and dust.

She recognizes the whine of engines above. Kree ships.

Carol and Maria used to make a game of guessing what aircraft was overhead at the moment by sound alone. It was fun, picking apart the pitch of the hum, if it purred smoothly, if it sounded big, or fast- all meaningful clues, if you knew what to listen for. With practice, they were correct most of the time.

She’d never forget the sounds of the Kree fleet. They have smooth, sophisticated machines, quieter than a Rolls Royce plane engine; loud and powerful ships designed to reach exit velocity quickly; for pursuit, streamlined vessels which whistle faintly, like a rocket; and hovering above her now, with a distinctive whine that reminds her of an A320, search craft, designed to fly slow and low. 

She’s lucky, really, that these rocks are crushing most of her body. Otherwise they might have found her already. 

  
There’s a large slab across her chest, cutting into her cheek and trapping her neck craned painfully to the side, pressed against her shoulder. She can see her free left arm, though the other is numb somewhere behind her line of sight. She shifts one leg, cringes at the resulting clatter of rocks. They settle, and the weight there feels almost heavier.

Fortunately, the noise doesn’t seem to be enough to give her position away. The explosion that got her stuck in the first place has severely destabilized this area, and more and more pieces of the cliffside are falling every minute.

She wants to answer Talos, but she wants to stay hidden more. Reaching with her left hand, Carol tap-taps purposefully against the comm stuck behind her ear.

“Captain?”

Tap-tap.

“We’re coming to get you, alright?”

TapTapTapTapTapTapTap.

“I- No?”

Tap.

“We shouldn’t get you?”

Tap.

“Well I-” Talos sighs, “I’m taking that as a hold position. Give me-” he taps, four times, “this when you need help.”

Tap-Tap.

On Earth, Carol is pretty sure one tap means yes and two means no, but Talos won’t have that reference, so she’ll just hope the ad-libbed tone she’s going for comes across. He seems to be getting it so far.

Less concerned now about her friend getting caught trying to pull her ass out of the fire, Carol evaluates the situation before her. She’s got to get free without being seen, and depending on the severity of her injuries, escape or find somewhere to hide and lick her wounds.

She stares at her bright red glove, against the brown, rocky ground beneath her. First thing’s first... Carol presses her forearm to her face, just able to use her nose to change the hue. Slowly... it shifts to maroon... yellow, she brings it back slowly, overshoots to black... 

Carol sighs, with the effort, unintentionally letting precious air out of her lungs. She doesn’t need to breathe, but the slab shifts, forcing a sharp cough from her chest. It settles again, lower, and she couldn’t inhale if she wanted to.

Suppressing the panic that comes with not being able to breathe- even after all these years of not _needing_ to- Carol brings her arm up once again, pushing the color into a sort of murky brown-green instead of the blue, and a black instead of the red. Good enough.

She pulls her legs slowly up, bending them. Boulders roll noisily, but soon she can feel that her knees are just free of it, and with a little more shifting, her feet are flat, directly on the ground. 

A spotlight passes overhead. 

Carol freezes, hopes for the best, and her chest twitches in relief as it moves on past her.

Next, the big one. She’s only got her legs and one arm, but back when she was a normal human person, she could bench 400 pounds off her hips. She thinks it’s a similar movement.

And if she miscalculates and demolishes her ankles well... at least she can fly. 

Carol holds the slab, pushing up with her hips to release her other arm. It feels completely foreign to her, but as she painfully cranes her head straight-up, she can see it scraping oddly against the rock, where her brain has directed it. Without receiving any signals back, she has to guide her fingers by sight, eventually flattening her palm against the large rock.

Carol wriggles, moving herself to the side slowly, inching her legs free. Jagged stones press painfully into her back, and a particularly sharp one slices her shoulder as she slides against it.

  
Fuck.

  
Carol closes her eyes tight, letting loose a slew of silent curses. She rolls a little to favor her left side, finally pushing herself free just as the feeling returning to her right arm is unbearable. She crushes her left hand fingers a little as she sets the slab down, scraping them as they’re pulled free.

Ow.

Carol shivers, holding her breath against the dust. She lays still for a couple of minutes, acutely feeling every scrape and bruise and wondering how she is supposed to get up.

Monica had something to show her at home.

Carol rolls slowly onto her stomach.

Her daughter had built a little robot. 

Carol settles her weight onto her left palm.

She’d been practicing, with some of the educational materials her stepmother brought from space years ago.

Carol pushes onto her knees.

The girl had quickly mastered concepts that were startlingly advanced for her age.

Carol rocks back, crouching against the cliff face.

She’s built quite a few different devices since then, fixed their toaster, become more hands-on in helping her mother fix the planes and automobiles that come her way.

Carol moves slowly, walking beneath a fracturing natural arch. 

On their call last night, Monica’s eyes sparkled with excitement as she told Carol about a robot she was building.

A boulder slams into the ground beside her, but Carol is too tired to flinch.

She really wanted to see that damn robot. 

Carol stands, under the cover, scraping her boot anxiously against the gravel beneath her.

She really wants to see that damn kid.

Carol pinpoints a gap in their security and kicks off from the ground, a conspicuous bright streak. She hopes the dust will buy her enough time to get over the search craft. From there, they’ll have something more sophisticated for pursuit, but if she can get far enough to make a jump without them following her, she’s in the clear. 

A whistle cuts through her thoughts.

Carol lets it follow her, knows it will be able to catch up if she’s not careful. She turns at the last second, and the pilot, disoriented in the low-visibility environment, miscalculates. Carol lands at the top of the cliff, too injured to jog off her landing speed, and tumbles as the aircraft crashes behind her. 

She groans, and Talos responds in her ear.

“Captain, do you need help now?”

“No.”

“Over there!” A voice calls. She can just see the shapes of people, marching towards her. 

Carol clambers to her feet. This is her best chance to exit.

Straight up, jump, don’t hesitate. If any ships make it through with her, she can take care of them on the other side. 

It’s when she takes one last look that she sees him. Despite the distance, the dust, the size of the squadron, Carol’s eyes lock onto Yon-Rogg immediately. He’s staring back at her intensely, his weapon raised.

She makes the jump, leaving him behind without a word exchanged.

\----

  
  


Carol arrives home several hours later, delivered to the closest Earth-reaching jump point by Talos, as Soren patched her wounds. After the close call with the Kree, it was their insistence that she return to her family for a while to recover. 

Her distraction had afforded the resistance enough time to capture a Kree prison ship, and pending news from the pair that they returned safely after dropping her off, all-in-all it was an extremely successful mission.

She’d been gone almost two months this time- not an unusual amount. Over the years since she’d returned to Earth, Carol made an effort to spend about half of her time in space, and half at home. Hopefully she’d get a good couple of months out of this break before she was needed back with the Skrulls.

Carol lands as softly as she can in the backyard, noting the new paint job on their outbuilding as she limps up to the house. 

“Hi!” she croaks, throwing open the backdoor, “I’m hooome....”

Monica immediately drops her Gameboy onto the table as she turns, smiling widely.

“Hi-” Her teen daughter says, then gasps, eyes wide, “Holy shit!"

“Monic-!” Maria scolds, turning the corner.

She takes in the sight of her wife, extremely bruised and battered, grinning warmly at the pair of them.

“-Holy shit, Carol.”

Monica steps forward, arms out. Carol tries to hug her, but finds the girl’s arms around her waist in a more supportive hold instead. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Carol insists, as Maria, much taller than their daughter- who seems to not have inherited her mother’s height- approaches with a stance that suggests she’s ready to scoop her wife up if she needs to, “I got here, didn’t I?”

“Welcome back, Auntie Carol!” Monica says, “How was it?” 

“Despite appearances, really good,” Carol tells them, as she is made to sit on the couch.

Goose weaves between her ankles, purring.

She considers stripping off her suit- back to red-and-blue, and cleaned on her trip home- and relaxing a little more in the tank and shorts she wears underneath, but she knows the bruises underneath might be a little alarming. She’s not completely sure what they all look like, she took a bit of a nap while Soren cleaned her up. 

“Welcome back, honey,” Maria greets, gently taking hold of Carol’s face.

She brushes her lips ever so softly over Carol’s black eye. It’s blueish, in color, covering a quarter of her face where she was struck. Below the bruise, on her cheek, is a navy, scabbed cut, covered with medical tape. Maria traces her thumb along the edge.

“What happened?” Monica asks.

Carol tells them, skimming over a lot of the details for her first pass of the story- except for the ones which make her sound cool. She tells them about the prison ship, the plan to draw Kree fire. She tried to ditch some bogeys in a canyon, like Maria had done against Minn-Erva, until one of the ships crashed and blew the cliff face, injuring her. But she got away.

Carol omits Yon-Rogg entirely, not ready to think just yet about how she felt seeing him again. That’s a conversation that can wait until she’s alone with Maria.

She also does not describe how it felt, alone in the bottom of that canyon, wishing she was home, was here, with her family.

  
Carol leans into Maria’s side. Monica takes her injured hand gently, confirming with her that she’s eaten recently. 

This is why she pictures home at her worst moments, Carol thinks. What better motivation could she ever find?

“Hey,” Carol meets her daughter’s beautiful brown eyes, “I think I was promised a robot?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you have a moment, comments let me know people are interested!


End file.
